


Two hours, thirty-five minutes and ten seconds

by idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, F/F, First Meetings, Girl Direction, Smoking, family sucks sometimes even if we love them, tagging just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 21:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14839586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo/pseuds/idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo
Summary: Louis has never managed to survive more than three hours at her family reunions without sneaking outside for a smoke. This time around, taking a break might've just been the best decision she's ever made.





	Two hours, thirty-five minutes and ten seconds

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii I wrote this in like, an hour. Any mistakes are mine, feedback always much appreciated xx

 

It takes Louis exactly two hours, thirty-five minutes and ten seconds to reach her breaking point.

She knows this because she bet Zayn that she’d last more than two and three quarter hours this year around and she started the stopwatch on her phone the minute she stepped across the threshold of her grandmother’s flat and Zayn was right, as she always is, because she seems to know Louis’ tolerance for her family better than Louis knows it herself.

They have had the same bet every year for Louis’ grandmother’s birthday since they were sixteen, and so far Zayn has won every single time. Now Louis is twenty-two and the longest that she ever managed to stay amidst her family at a stretch was last year, when she took a break after two hours and fifty minutes. And of course, Zayn was right that year as well and Louis owed her three beers the next time they went to the pub just around the corner from their flat.

It takes two hours, thirty-five minutes and ten seconds of “Oh, your hair is still short?” and “Did you hear that Micaela filed for divorce? She wants full custody of the kids!” and “So you’re still into tattoos, I see. Interesting.” and “Oh, Mary can’t even walk properly anymore, she gets worse every year, poor thing!”

A bit over two and a half hours of her entire family gathered in one flat, including all her uncles and aunts and cousins and her grandmother’s sister and her children and random people that Louis has no idea how she is related to, of people constantly gossiping about each other when the other person has left the room, of comments about the way that Louis looks or the clothes she wears or the collection of tattoos on her arms (even though she’s wearing a long-sleeved blue dress shirt today that covers most of them), of political discussions that never end in anything else other than someone awkwardly changing the subject, and after two hours, thirty-five minutes and ten seconds Louis quietly slips out of the flat, walks down the five steps to get to the backdoor of the house and takes a deep breath as she reaches the garden.

The first thing she does is text Zayn a simple ‘ _you won_ ’ and then she lights a cigarette and inhales deeply.

Experience taught her that if she disappears after dinner, which usually ends around eight, she can stay outside for exactly twelve minutes before someone notices that she’s been gone too long to just be on the toilet and comes looking for her. She sets a timer for ten minutes just to be sure and closes her eyes, leaning her head against the wall.

It’s not that she doesn’t love her family.

Of course, most of them are slightly homophobic and definitely racist, and the kids can be annoying as hell when they all argue amongst each other and scream way too loud, but that doesn’t stop her from loving her grandma’s cooking and the giggles when she tickles her smaller cousins and the chats about music she has with one of her uncles every year. She loves her family, but she doesn’t always like them very much, and she definitely can’t stay in the same room as all of them for an extended amount of time.

When her timer is down to nine minutes her cigarette is finished and she carefully stumps it out on the floor and puts it into the ashtray that one of her grandmother’s neighbours always leaves outside.

She checks her phone and finds a text from Zayn saying _‘i always win’_ and then _‘u ok though? <3’ _and she quickly types out a response telling her that she’s fine and that they’ll talk when Louis comes home later tonight.

She’s just taking out another cig when the door opens. She quickly hides the pack behind her back and squares her shoulder to ready herself for a tirade from one of her aunts when she realises that it’s not actually one of them and her breath catches in her throat.

The woman that steps outside and gently shuts the door behind her is around her age, with short brown hair that curls around her face and a burgundy short sleeved shirt and tattoos all over her arms and she’s so pretty she might just be an angel. Louis stares for another second, then she exhales shakily and takes out her pack of cigarettes again, sticking one between her lips and lighting it.

The woman watches this, eyes never leaving Louis, and then she slumps against the wall next to her.

“Hand me one of those, will ya?”

Louis takes in her appearance for a bit longer and notices that, despite her definitely being dressed up and absolutely gorgeous, there’s something slightly off about her tired voice and jittery legs, so she takes out another cigarette and puts it between the woman’s outstretched fingers. Her nails are cut short and painted dark red to match both her blouse and her lipstick, and instead of following any train of thought in that direction Louis clears her throat.

“Need a light?”

The woman leans forward with the cigarette held against her lips and Louis lights it up for her, watches as she takes a long drag. They stand in silence for another handful of moments until the woman opens her eyes and extends her hand.

“I’m rude as fuck. I’m Harry.”

Louis shakes her hand and stares in wonder as Harry’s big hand closes around hers. Then she stops _that_ train of thought and replies, “Louis.”

Harry lets go slowly. “Sorry about that. My family has just been the death of me today and I needed some space.”

Louis chuckles. “Same here, to be honest. I come outside at least once during my grandma’s birthdays every year. Family can be a bit… too much.”

“Your family lives here then?”

“My grandma does, yeah. Can’t say I’ve ever seen you around, though.” She turns her head to look at Harry, smiles at the way her curls slightly bounce as she shakes her head.

“No, my aunt recently moved here. She’s actually having her moving in slash family reunion party right now. I don’t usually smoke, but like, you know. They’ve been stressing me out all day and I needed something to take the edge off.” She trails off and shrugs.

“Ah,” Louis says. “That explains it. Thought that I would’ve remembered someone as pretty as you.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth twitches and they both continue to smoke in silence for a while.

When the timer on Louis’ phone tells her that she has about two minutes left before she should go back inside she finishes her cigarette and holds out the ashtray for Harry to put hers out as well. Louis’ eyes catch on the traces of Harry’s red lipstick on the stub and she decides that she’s just going to risk it.

“So, before I head inside, is there any chance of me getting your number?”

“Of course there is.” Harry grins at her and she has fucking _dimples_ and Louis is already far too gone as she hands Harry her phone and watches her adding herself to her contacts.

“Well then,” Louis says accepts her phone back, pushes herself away from the wall and moves to open the door. “I’ll make sure to text you.”

Harry grabs her hand and pulls her close for a second, presses a lingering kiss just where Louis’ jaw stops and her neck begins, and then moves away with a small smirk. “You do that.”

Louis stares at her for another moment and then turns away and closes the door behind her as a grin spreads across her face.

 

Later that night, after way too many hugs and cheek-pinches and pats on her back and after Zayn has welcomed her home with a tight hug and a spliff already rolled, Louis stands in front of her bedroom mirror and examines the spot of red colour just beneath her ear, invisible to anyone who doesn’t know it’s there. She smiles to herself as she takes out her phone and sends a text.

_hi ! this is louis from earlier_

It feels very much like the start of something great when she gets a reply almost immediately.

_Hello there, Louis. Any plans for next Saturday?_

 

 


End file.
